Housebroken II: The Red Herring
by sarahofearth
Summary: Bart’s life with Oliver as his guardian is going great. That is, until Tess Mercer decides to use Oliver Queen for her own devious plans. The hero’s life is speeding out of control and this time, Bart can’t keep up! R&R.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** I deserve to be killed for taking this long. But wait! If you do, you'll never get a chance to hear me say, "Here is the madly requested sequel you've been waiting for!" Eh? Eh? Oh crap, now I'm outta bargaining chips. Uhh, just do it quickly. My threshold for pain isn't that high…

Seriously though, thank you guys so much for your reviews. Housebroken Heroes was the first story I wrote that broke the 100 review mark. Not to mention it had two pretty obscure characters in it so I hadn't been very hopeful for its success. Thank you all for making it come this far!

As an added bonus, if you visit my profile, I **posted a picture **I drew of the Justice League. It's pretty crappy… Scratch that, really crappy. But it's for you lovely readers! Thank you.

XxxxXXXxxxX

Pulling, tearing, lashing, I couldn't get free. The Phantom was a powerful force that even my superspeed couldn't overcome. The situation seemed dire, and the more I tried to release myself from the tornado-like intensity, the harder it tugged until I was sure my skin would rip clean off. Other objects also caught in the twister sliced me left and right while a few heavier ones hurdled at me with impossible strength. The pain was almost unbearable.

Baring my teeth, I pushed my body to limits no human should go. I had to get free because I wasn't going to last much longer.

Finally, relief: I smacked straight into a stone surface, but the pain was nothing compared to the stress lifted off my broken form. I felt my shoulders tighten from the pain of impact, but I ignored it, daring to smile at how freeing the experience was.

I heard the cries of my teammates as they continued to battle the Phantom. A whooshing sound could be heard when the beast was finally vortexed back to the Zone. Though the worst of it was over, I still laid there, the agonizing ache too much for me to ignore. I didn't dare open my eyes. I doubt I could see anything from the amount of blood spilt over my face, blood that continued to trickle further with each wheeze I let escape my throbbing chest. I hadn't spotted the object that had grazed my head but the cut it left behind was so deep it barely hurt. -At least not in comparison with my other injuries.

"Bart!" I heard an urgent voice call. In my intense fatigue, I couldn't make out whose voice it belonged. There was an evident worry in it that I immediately recognized as my guardian's. "Oh God…"

I didn't want him to find me like this, but there wasn't much I could do in my condition. So I lay in a crumpled heap on the floor, struggling to take in yet another wheezing breath. Footsteps fell until I felt the vague presence of my three teammates around me. I didn't acknowledge any of them. I simply groaned before passing out completely.

XxxxXXXxxxX

Oliver rushed into the derelict parish, an unconscious and bleeding Bart cradled in his arms. All the buildings were rundown and dusty as were the villagers that had halted at the sight of the leather-clad white man. "I need a doctor!" Oliver cried, his brow creased with sweat and eyes wild with worry.

Suddenly, a short, elderly woman emerged from the group of curious bystanders, a question in her glimmering, weathered eyes. "_¿Necesita al doctor, sí_?"

Thankfully, Ollie was able to call upon his business training for the language barrier. _"Sí, sí, mi hijo está lastimado,_" he said, raising Bart slightly to show who he was talking about -as if the blood wasn't explanation enough.

"_Sígame,_" she waved her hand and began hurriedly walking towards a dilapidated dwelling near the back. Two young, Hispanic women in long skirts trailed closely behind her, and Oliver followed along with AC and Victor in tow.

After they made their way into the confined quarters, Ollie tried not to jostle Bart as he carefully laid him down on the makeshift bed. AC and Vic were forced outside since there was barely room enough for the five others in the cramped space.

Oliver placed a hand on Bart's forehead, wishing the boy would wake up so he could stare into those laughing eyes again. The image of the lifeless boy was surely one that would haunt him forever. Oliver watched as the doctor had taken out a pair of scissors and was now cutting open Bart's shirt to assess his injuries. The deep gash that was revealed made the blonde man grimace in evident regret. _How could I have let this happen?_ he thought mournfully.

As the doctor peeled off the rest of Bart's shirt, the handmaidens cleaned the wound with what Oliver hoped was sterile water. He pursed his lips, keeping himself from asking such questions. _Beggars can't be choosers,_ he reminded himself, although he planned on full repaying everyone in the town for their help and discretion. He simply couldn't chance it slipping out that the JLA was in the neighborhood desert.

The deep abrasion still bled heavily, making Ollie tenser with each passing minute, until finally the aged doctor quickly set about sticking the needle and thread through Bart's skin. Before she could start though, Oliver stop the frenzied exclamation that escaped his lips,

"You don't have any numbing fluids?!"

The doctor gave him a questioning stare, obviously not understanding the question. The handmaidens were casting him similar looks. He shook his head. _Fine. _Bart would have to do without.

His face set in a grim frown, Oliver took up one of the boy's hands and grasped it tightly as the needle went into the wound. She slid it through one side easily and then the other. It was only when she tugged the first stitch shut that a certain speedster jolted awake.

"AGH!" Bart shrieked and Oliver stood at full attention at his side. The older man laid a hand on his shoulder to keep him from getting up. Ignoring the brown-haired boy's obvious displeasure, the doctor and handmaidens continued working on shutting the wound.

"It's okay, Bart. Just let them finish suturing the wound," coaxed Oliver in an overwrought tone. Bart's eyes were frantic, filled with fever and pain, but after some consoling, he readjusted them on the man with both hands pinned on his shoulders.

"O-lie?" Bart's voice was raw from dehydration, blood loss, and screaming. He swallowed, and Oliver nodded in return, looking back to inspect the elderly woman's handiwork. She was halfway done, stopping up the bleeding somewhat. "AH!"

Forehead lined with fret, Oliver turned back to his agonized charge. "Shh, Bart, I'm sorry, but it has to be done. C'mon, buddy, you can do this. Please, stay strong." He felt like he was saying nonsense. What was supposed to be placating words barely managed to comfort his own frazzled mind.

Through gritted teeth, Bart pleaded, "Please, Ollie, make it stop. It-AH!- it hurts so bad!" Oliver couldn't respond to the entreaty. He wanted so badly to tell the women to stop her surgery but knew the consequences of the action would only make things that much worse.

"Bart, Bart!" After finally getting the howling boy's attention, Oliver's countenance turned serious. "Look at me. You'll get through this. You will not die. I won't let that happen, okay?" Bart, face taut with pain, sniveled before nodding apprehensively.

Ten minutes past, Bart trying to control his movements and crying as the women finished sewing the laceration shut. Finally, it was over, but by then, Bart had already passed out from the overwhelming hurt.

Oliver looked at the resting boy remorsefully. The lines in Bart's face visibly relaxed once the doctor put her supplies away. As she did this, she explained to Oliver that the worst of it was over and that he would have to go to an actual hospital to take care of the rest of Bart's many other injuries.

Oliver wasn't listening though. He precariously gathered Bart into his arms again, looking down sadly at the lifeless boy's face, wiping some of the dirt and tears off his cheek and forehead. He hated this job sometimes. Why did the protection of the world have to cost so much? And why was Bart the one to pay for it? The boy certainly didn't deserve this.

Oliver sighed and lifted his aching body off the floor, grunting slightly with addition of Bart's weight. He graciously thanked the woman and promised funds would arrive soon for repayment. He met the other heroes just outside the shack, and the three made their way past the crowds of people. With sullen expressions on their face, they started the long trek home.

XxxxXXXxxxX

I stared long and hard at the book in front of me, trying to concentrate on where I was and what I was doing. Slowly, ever so slowly, the words on the pages blurred together and I felt my head and eyes accede to the niggling pull of sleep, drooping lower with the flow of gravity.

"Mr. Allen!" My head shot up at the loud voice and I hastily readjusted my focus on my English teacher, Dr. Lexington. "Care to join us?" A couple of giggles followed the question. I smiled back at the British man sheepishly.

"Sorry about that, Doc; I'm all ears now," I replied derisively, grinning a little. My teacher nodded and carried on with his lesson of Shakespearean poetry. Seriously, it didn't get more boring than this.

I jumped from a vibration in my pocket. After a moment of uncertainty, I connected the sensation with my phone and began stealthily pulling the device out of my pocket. -I wasn't about to get caught over texting in class now too.

Behind my book, I pressed the menu button to access my new message, which read in small white letters, "Hey, Allen, you feelin' okay?"

I immediately looked up a few seats across from me until my eyes connected with a floppy blonde-haired boy's blue ones. They lit up when he smiled at me cheekily, and I smirked in return, returning my gaze to my phone to punch a message back.

"Fine, Baker, the Doc just caught me at a bad time." My message said. I punctuated it with a ":P" emoticon before pressing "Send." WHAT? My eyes widened as the screen shone what time it was. Had the time just gone backwards? I was almost positive the class had almost been done.

A few moments later, Dr. Lexington seemed ready to wrap up his lecture. Still speaking, he shuffled the teaching materials on his desk and came up with a piece of paper. "Ah!" He exclaimed, reading the note with a tip of his black-rimmed glasses. "I nearly forgot about this. Right then, students, this time tomorrow we will be having a special guest speaker come to the class. Talking about her journalistic success as new head of the Daily Planet, Miss Tess Mercer."

My eyes instinctively sharpened at the name and the pencil I was using to doodle on my notebook dropped to my desk. "What?" I accidentally blurted, much louder than necessary. A few of the students and Dr. Lexington looked at me with quizzical stares. I swallowed my embarrassment and masked the question with a more casual manner. "I mean-Why is she wasting her time at this school?"

A few students laughed at my inquiry, mostly girls that had a habit of trying to get on my good side. Dr. Lexington didn't look pleased though.

"Miss Mercer is a graduate of this school. It's not uncommon to speak of one's professional endeavors since attending here." Something told me this wasn't as common a set up as Dr. Lexington professed, and I intended on finding out Tess' real motives.

In reply, I nodded to my teacher just as the bell rang and the students began their noisy retreat out the doors. As I slung my red backpack over my shoulder, I filed beside my friend Tom Baker to exit the room. Sadly, before I could taste the sweet air of freedom, Dr. Lexington called my name.

"May I have a word with you, please?" I looked at the British man in the neatly pressed, tweed suit with apprehension, thus he offered me a reassuring smile as if to say it wasn't that bad.

"I'll wait outside," I heard Tom whisper in my ear. I nodded before hearing the dismal sound of the door snapping shut behind me. I continued to stare up at my teacher, who quickly motioned me to a desk in front of his own.

I dropped my bag and myself in the chair as the brown-haired man took a seat atop his desk. "Now," he began, looking at me kindly. "How are you, Mr. Allen? How are you really?"

I tilted my head. Something told me whatever he was about to talk about would be confusing and exhausting. Resting my head in one hand, I told him cheerily, "Why, I'm just fine, Dr. Lexington; how are you?"

The man looked displeased at my sarcastic reply, but just about everything I did with him got me that Look so I didn't bother looking remotely scared.

He crossed his arms, the lines on his forehead deepening. "What I meant was how is your life at home?" He replied stiffly, blatantly ignoring my question concerning _his_ wellbeing. "Is there something you want to share?"

Instantly, my thoughts jumped to the league as it always did in situations of unprovoked questioning. But there was no way Dr. Lexington could be onto the team; we would've known about it. With that comforting thought in mind, I shifted a bit before replying, "No, nothing out of the ordinary." I paused before voicing my curiosity. "What's this about?"

He sighed and looked down at his interlaced fingers in his lap. "Bart, I try not to look too much into my student's personal lives based solely upon what they write in their assignments. But each and every one of your papers has to do with a character fighting 'bad guys.'"

I swallowed. Crap, how could I have been so stupid? I was just writing about what I knew, and here I was reaping the consequence. I hastily formulated a lie that might make him drop the subject. "I've been reading too many comic books, you know? It's really nothing, teach."

My instructor paid no attention to my disrespectful address or my response. "Even so, I can't help but connect the two and worry about your at-home situation."

There was a silence as he looked at me solemnly. I squirmed underneath his gaze, but still kept my nonchalant mask in place. "Thanks for the concern, but there's nothing going on 'at home.' Oliver has made sure my life stays as boring as possible."

Dr. Lexington nodded, his face unreadable. "Yes right, speaking of Oliver, how is it? Living with him, I mean."

I jutted out my lips in thought and shrugged. "Fine, I guess. He's made some parts of my life easier and some harder, you know?"

"I see…" Dr. Lexington said and suddenly I felt like I was in some sort of psychiatric case. I groaned inwardly; how did I get in to this stupid situation? I mentally willed for an interruption.

The door swung opened suddenly and a strict-faced woman in office attire entered. "Dr. Lexington, you're next class started five minutes ago." She spoke, unhindered by the meeting the teacher and I were having. Inner-Me was already blowing out a sigh of relief.

Dr. Lexington nodded apologetically, and I stared at him in wonderment. Why had he set aside his class time to speak with me? Sure the school was boring, but I thought the teachers loved it here. Had this really been a routine student checkup for him? "Sorry, Diane, I'll be there shortly."

"I hope so," she said as Dr. Lexington rose from the desk and began packing his belongings into his briefcase. "I'm sorry, Mr. Allen. Perhaps we can continue this discussion another time?"

"Sure," I said. Note to self: make quick escapes plans for near future. After he rushed out the door, I couldn't help but think how weird my teacher was by trying to get in on my personal life. Strangely enough, he didn't seem to be plotting anything evil. But that just made me all-the-more worried. What could he be planning if not ruining the Justice League?

Pushing the thoughts to the back of my mind, I scooped up my bag and slung it around my shoulder. Tom was dutifully waiting for me outside the door, exclaiming he was texting his butler to come pick us up for pizza. My depressive thoughts were quickly replaced with the gratefulness of living in this affluent atmosphere. Like I said, living with Ollie made things harder but at the same time a _lot_ easier…

XxxxXXXxxxX

I tossed fitfully in my bed. It was the twelfth time that night I switched positions, and I got more restless every time I craned my neck to look at my side table's alarm clock. I just couldn't shake the thought of Tess Mercer coming to my school tomorrow. It was too suspicious. The woman probably didn't get a carwash without an ulterior motive, which afflicted me with thoughts of Mercer's world domination and other bizarre plots.

I puffed out a breath in frustration, sitting up on my red sheets and raking a hand through my once-again shaggy hair. It still amazed me that I had evaded one of those dreaded haircuts Ollie was persistently trying to get me. This was owed in part that I didn't see my guardian as much as I would have liked.

Yes, he was busy in Smallville, but did that really mean I could only see him once or twice a week? Even at those rare times we talked, Ollie was usually too busy or tired to keep the conversation going. I sighed. Great, I had made yet another thing for me to be troubled with. I really needed to distract myself.

I needed to eat something.

Throwing the blankets off my pajama-clad legs, I stepped barefoot onto the burbur cream carpet, shuffling blindly in the dark in hopes of finding the tall wooden door. Although I had been living in the house for nearly five months now, it still was trying to locate anything in the expansive mansion.

Making my way out of my room, which was newly renovated due to a certain incident with a blue-eyed superhero, I plodded gloomily down the stairs and, after a few minutes, found my destination: the kitchen.

Immediately, I climbed onto one of the granite counters, where a dark timber cupboard sat above it. I opened the paneled cabinet and reached inside the top shelf until I pulled out a box of assorted chocolate bars. I closed the cupboard and sat back down on the counter, unwrapping a mouthwatering Hershey's bar. Ollie would definitely not approve of my "secret stash," but that's what he got for not being around as much.

I bit into the delectable chocolate and chewed thoughtfully, happy to distract myself from my troubling thoughts, at least for a moment. I refocused my thoughts on how chocolate was made and if I could convince Queen Industries to begin investing in my a Hersheys franchise. But in my chocolate-induced daze, I didn't notice the garage door shut in the distance so I jumped slightly when I heard the keys hit the countertop.

"Hey, little man, what are you still doing up?" Ollie asked, setting his laptop bag onto the kitchen island and looking at me with tired eyes. Quickly getting over my initial surprise, I recovered with a nonchalant shrug.

"I couldn't sleep," I told him, taking a small bite from my candy. I looked down at my plaid pajamas, avoiding his eye contact. Oliver was bushed and obviously didn't want to talk to me right now.

"And you thought the chocolate would make you sleep faster?" He asked, eyeing the offending box of candy beside me. I could hear the smirk in his voice, but I couldn't bring myself to look at him.

Once again, I shrugged.

He sighed heavily and walked closer. I dared to look up at his face and inwardly cringed at the worry written on it. Nice job, Bart, your attempt to lessen Ollie's stress totally sucks because you just made it worse!

"Bart, what's wrong?" I didn't answer him, which I knew would just make him press the subject further. "You know I can't help you when you don't talk to me." He implored, ducking his head to look into my downcast eyes.

I couldn't help the snarky comment that escaped my lips, "How would I know that when we never _talk_?" I flicked my gaze up from the ground to him. The statement evidently hurt him because he opened his mouth to speak and then shut it suddenly, leaning back against the counter opposite me with a bothered look.

There was a pregnant silence, and the entire time I was wishing I could take back what I said. It wasn't Ollie's fault he couldn't be home as much; it was his status. All of us were fully aware of his business standing and most of us were used to it. I wish I could say I was, but I couldn't. -Not when each week I'd find myself yearning to spend time with Oliver, then remembering he wasn't there. It hurt worse every time it happened, and I just couldn't shake the feeling of the bitter solitude.

I couldn't take the silence any longer, so I softly muttered an apology. "Sorry. I know you're busy. I was just venting about something else."

Ollie, grateful I dropped the subject, looked up interestedly, "Why? Is it your injuries? Do you want to go get it checked out?"

I rolled my eyes. Ever since our battle with the phantom, anytime I even showed the slightest bit of discomfort, Ollie wouldn't hesitate to mother-hen me about my injury. I don't remember much from the night, but according to Victor and AC, it took a lot out of my blonde leader. Still, that was several weeks ago and the only things I had left were some cuts, bruises, and a pretty bad scar on my torso. In any case, getting hurt in battle came with the territory of fighting bad guys, but each time I told Ollie this, it fell on deaf ears.

"No," I grumbled, even though it was no use. Ollie would never simply "let it go." "School is what my problem is. _Tess_ is coming tomorrow to teach our class about finances or whatever."

"Oh." Ollie nodded perceptively as he took the candybar out of my hands and began packing it into the box. I was too busy gaping at the monosyllabic response to notice my beloved candy had been slyly thieved.

"'Oh'?! Is that all you can say?!" I cried incredulously. Ollie narrowed his eyes at me and put a finger to his mouth, signaling me to be quieter for the other housemates. I clamped my mouth shut in annoyance but opened it again with quieter tones. "Tess is only the female version of the evilest person on the planet, Lex Luthor-You're familiar with him, right? Bald, weird, and constantly trying to ruin/rule the world."

My guardian tried to busy himself with repackaging the candy box beside me. I just gawked at his silence. Why was he acting so strangely? Didn't he realize the threat this woman posed? I knew I wasn't paranoid about her wickedness because I had read her file. Heck, you didn't even need a flippin' file! The fact that she was one of Lex's buddies made her terrible from the start.

"Oliver," I began calmly. (The guy tended to ignore me when I started getting "obnoxious".) "You told me to talk, so I am. Tess is up to something; I know it. So what should I do?"

Ollie looked at me with sad eyes and rested a hand on my red-sleeved shoulder comfortingly. I had a feeling he was going to say something important so I pushed aside the tiredness that was slowly creeping over me. "How about we talk about this over ice cream?"

My jaw probably touched the floor... Ice cream? Ollie couldn't possibly be serious, but his eyes didn't hold a hint of comedic trickery nor did it seem he would suddenly burst out with a triumphant "Gotcha!" anytime soon. No. He sincerely wanted to talk about Tess, evil woman coming to my school tomorrow, over ice cream.

After squinting at the man as if I were studying a particularly puzzling equation on one of Vic's computer screens, I turned my emotions to those of red-hot anger. If Ollie didn't want to help me with her, he could just say so. Instead he proposed a stupid meeting that, I might add, would be entirely too late to begin with! I didn't need to take this.

I quickly shrugged his hand off my shoulder with a glare. "Great, ice cream'll be awesome." I bit out sarcastically, sliding off the counter. "Just give me a call or set up a meeting with my secretary. Because, you know, it's not like I don't just live right across the hall from you!"

I knew I was leaving a bewildered and hapless Ollie in my wake, but since he didn't care about my problems, why should I care about his. Fuming, I flopped onto my bed and scrunched my eyes together until I willed my body into unconsciousness.

XxxxXXXxxxX

The next day, I made a promise to myself that I wouldn't send Tess any death glares, just to observe and report anything that fell under the category of "suspicious." The bell rang as the students filed in, and I plopped heavily into my seat, a nonchalant glaze over my eyes.

Dr. Lexington attempted to speak over the bustle of the class. "Quiet down, class." After a few more twittering giggles, the room settled into a comfortable silence. "Thank you. Okay, today we have a very special guest speaker with us today. She now heads Luthor Corp. and the Daily Planet and has accomplished some amazing feats in the journalistic field. Tess Mercer, can you please come up?"

A few of the students clapped, but my eyes only warily watched her as she made her way to the front of the classroom. She smirked at the class and smoothed her hands over her tweed red, hip-hugging skirt. "Thank you, Dr. Lexington. It's lovely to see you again," She replied in an authoritative voice, flipping her auburn hair.

Dr. Lexington closed his eyes in a nod of acknowledgment, and the rest of us waited for her to speak.

She started with an introduction and simple resume on her professional work, something we were all too familiar with since the disappearance of Lex Luthor. After a while of her going on about the importance of hard work and diligence, it seemed everyone had completely zoned her out. From every corner of my vision, each student was either texting, doodling, or doing another act of total inattention. In fact, the only person that seemed to be scrutinizing her every word was… Me.

I noticed she pointedly didn't look in my direction. As if she knew I was hoping to catch her eye and figure out the real reason she had come to my school. My hand scribbled this observation down in a notebook I planned to show to Ollie later tonight. My hand cramped a bit from sloppily scrawling the following: "I don't care how prestigious my school is, no executive just clears their schedule to speak to a bunch of teenagers about journalism. How stupid does she think we are?"

Occasionally, Tess would inject some humorous joke in her speech that a few of the suck-ups with laugh and nod at, but other than that, the whole lecture was an absolute snore session. Once the bell rang, I couldn't help my sigh of relief as I hurriedly packed up my "notes" and headed for the door. The aforementioned suck-ups clapped and went to the front of the class to ask her some question, so I was home-free to sneak out unnoticed.

But of course, I could never be so lucky.

A heavy hand landed on my shoulder, nearly making me super speed out of pure surprise. Instead, I quickly snapped my head up to meet the eyes of Dr. Lexington's portentous gaze. "Mr. Allen, I'd like you to come with me, please." It was a cold, solemn demand that left no room for argument as he turned his heel and began walking down the hall, no doubt in his mind that I would follow.

His words hit me like a MACK truck. A few simple words had me shaking in my boots as I trailed after him down the vast hallways of the academy. "Calm down, Bart," I told myself harshly. "You're getting worked up about nothing again. He doesn't know anything about the League. It's probably about your cheating or stealing or disrespect or one of the other million 'crimes' you do on a daily basis." But in the back of my mind, it was his tone that scared me, so foreboding and ominous. I dreaded discovering the subject of our meeting would be less than favorable.

He opened the wooden door with the glass panel marked "Infirmary" on it. I squinted in confusion at the room as Dr. Lexington waited for me to head inside. "Come along, Bart."

My mouth was dry from the onslaught of worrisome thoughts therefore protesting was useless as I slowly made my way into the room. My face remained a mask of defiant indifference while my mind raced with possible options of why in the world I was in the school's infirmary. I had been in here a few months ago when I first started the school and got my face beaten in by that snobby turd and his flunkies.

A nurse, I watchfully noted, waited by one of the elevated beds with the sanitary paper stretched across it. She smiled at me comfortingly as Dr. Lexington stood on the other side of the bed, a similar encouraging look on his face. I frowned, the only outward sign of my bewilderment finally surfacing on my face.

"Why am I here?" I asked, trying to keep the defensiveness out of my voice and failing miserably. Dr. Lexington shifted his gaze to the nurse and she nodded in affirmation. He cleared his throat.

"Bart, recent evidence has come forward about your personal situation that has the school very concerned." Dr. Lexington began. The words "personal" and "school" were like cymbals to my eardrums. You mean the entire staff knew something about my life that I didn't? Oh no, no, no, Ollie was going to kill me now that we'd be forced to move to Germany from all of Excelsior finding out our secret.

I swallowed, hoping the voice that escaped my lips wouldn't sound guilty or completely suspicious. "Like I told you yesterday, teach, there's nothing wrong. And I really don't think anything with my personal life is the school's business." I added a touch of a smirk to seal the arrogant statement. I hoped to God they couldn't see the painful struggle going on through my eyes.

"That may be so, but if there is any suspicion of abuse going on with one of the students, it's the school's duty to take action." My world froze. I could see Dr. Lexington continue to lecture me about the school's duty or whatever, but it sounded muffled and inaudible in my shocked state. Abused? I wasn't being abused! Sure, I got in fights with criminals and henchmen on occasion, but Ollie had never hurt me. I realized Dr. Lexington was continuing to repeat a statement with rising determination.

"What?" I asked, forcing my mind to stop bustling for one second and focus on these eerie circumstances.

Dr. Lexington's looked down at me with an unfaltering gaze. "I said, lift up your shirt." My eyes must have bugged out of my head at the demand. I opened my mouth for words but none ever came. Instead, I began inching my way away towards the exit and from the man I once thought to be a decent guy but I now saw as a distrustful enemy.

"What? No!" I cried, staring at him like he was delusional. I had to look appalled because if I showed my true feelings of guilt they would only be twice as insistent. I was guilty because I knew what my torso looked like, still mottled with bruises and a large surgical scar from a few months back, and I knew what they would think. Heck, I couldn't even justify that the injuries were not caused by my "at-home situation."

"Bart," Dr. Lexington was turning on a sympathetic expression that made me want to talk to him even less. "If something is going on, you need to tell us. We can't help you otherwise." He was leaning down to my eye-level and I pulled away further.

I bared my teeth defensively, "I. Don't. Need. Your help."

"Mr. Allen-" Whatever hour-long lecture Dr. Lexington was about to jump into, I didn't stick around to hear it.

"There's nothing wrong! Just leave me alone!" Injecting a bit of superspeed in my step, I ran out of the infirmary's door, throwing caution to the wind. I had enough of their little intervention and their ignorance. Where had they even gotten their information anyway?

Once I rounded gate that blocked the looming Excelsior academy from the main street, I slowed my pace, choosing to walk the two miles home to sort out my thoughts. My face was hot from the buildup of anger, sadness, and offense. I knew the one thing that I resented most about that conversation was what they planned to do when they saw my battered body.

I shuddered. I didn't even want to imagine being taken away. I'd been in foster care a few times before and always easily escaped, but living with an actual guardian, especially a guardian as prominent as Oliver, meant major repercussions would come with an escape. I shook my head. I was getting ahead of myself. When I talked with Ollie about this, he would sort it all out.

The rest of the walk back to the large estate, a house I'd come to call home, was uneventful one but it helped heal my frayed nerves. I took out my key after climbing the steps, opened the front door, and was greeted by Vic and AC in a heated Gears of War match in one of the main living rooms.

"Hey," I greeted, dropping my hefty book bag carelessly onto the floor. I knew Ollie hated when I did this, claiming he stubbed his toe on it every time he came in at night, but it was one of those unbreakable habits. My two teammates grunted in return, too focused on their battle. I, being the guy that I was, began to get sucked into the video game as well and had to shake my head to regain focus on the matter at hand. "You guys know if Ollie's home? I need to talk to him."

"Yeah," Vic said, his eyes still glued to the screen and fingers busy with the controller. "I saw him about an hour ago in the backyard. Should still be back there."

"Thanks," I mumbled, walking in the direction of the backdoor exit. If I hadn't already said it, the house was huge, but the backyard was like a maze. Gardens, courtyards, walkways- I was always getting lost in the acre wide enclosure. This time though, I was able to navigate my way through the expansive yard to the sounds of soft classical music and friendly conversation in one of the garden's canopied areas.

"Looks like we're running a little low on wine. I'll go grab us some more." I heard Ollie say as he rounded the corner of one of the tall hedges. The tall man nearly collided into me but I stepped back before any damage was done. "Bart!" he exclaimed in mild surprise. He looked at me then back at where he just came from, apparently distracted. "What are you doing here?"

I quirked an eyebrow at him. "Kind of live here, amigo." He nodded and I eyed the two wine glasses in his hand before smiling conspiratorially. "But it looks like you've got your hands full with someone who doesn't…"

"Yeah, about that-" He began but I cut him off in understanding, nodding.

"No worries, padre. I'll get out of your hair." I raised my hands, promising my invisibility. I lowered them again and became staid. "But I do need to talk to you later about something. It's kind of important. I'm actually not sure if I should wait to tell you or tell you now because it could get out and-"

My rambling seemed to catch Oliver's momentarily preoccupied attention. "Bart? What's wrong?"

I looked up at him, biting my lip. "I think there's been a leak."

"What-What do you mean?" Ollie asked, his face a mask of seriousness. "What kind of leak? How do you know?"

I toed my Converse into the grass and let the words spill out of my mouth, undeterred. "The school. They somehow knew about my injuries. Don't ask me how, but I'm thinking there's an informant somewhere." I chanced a glance up at Ollie and saw his eyes had hardened with thought. I could see the gears turning in his mind on how he would fix the hazardous situation. A few moments later, I could see them slowing down.

"Don't worry about it, Bart. We'll figure out who that person is and-" He never got to finish divulging his master plan as his guest decided to make an appearance.

"Oliver, honey, what's taking you so long?" The woman's green eyes were filled with mirth I'd never seen before, but once they focused on me, they immediately changed back to their original coldness.

"Sorry, Tess, just talking to Bart here." He gave her a placating smile but it faltered slightly when he returned his gaze to me. I'm sure it was no mystery that I was sickened to see her with Ollie, but to have Ollie overlook telling me? That made it twice as bad.

And suddenly I knew all too well who fed the school the info about my injuries, who intended to pin an abuse charge on my guardian, and who plotted to tear my every aspect of my life apart: Tess Mercer.

But she was about to learn that a hero never goes down without a fight.

XxxxXXXxxxX

**A/N:** That's chapter 1. Review for a special prize... Suspense!


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** *is scared to put this up here* Okay, so I've decided to discontinue this sequel (mainly because I really don't like Tess and this was just the totally wrong direction I wanted for this story) but I have decided to write a different one. It's on my new account ImAGiver, aaand I'm updating it again today.

I do hope I don't get smeared for posting this, but I was just tired of hiding from my reviewers. I really wanted to get a fresh account where I would actually finish things when I started them, hence my new name. Please, tell me what you think of the new story, because I truly do love writing these characters as much as you guys love reading them.

See you on the other side!

~Sarah


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